


Burning Up

by cornflakepizza



Series: Burn Verse [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Anal Play, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornflakepizza/pseuds/cornflakepizza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting caught masturbating, Tim turns to a friend for help. Humiliation kink with a fluffy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Up

**Author's Note:**

> For secretinternetbox at tumblr. =v= Thanks to varebanos and silencingthedrums for beta-ing.
> 
> Tim is in his teens, around 15 or 16, but could easily be aged up to 18.

It had been a long night.

After a full day of classes and an afternoon spent surveying the R&D floors at Wayne Enterprises for a school report, Tim had suited up for what should have been a quick patrol. First he had swung by the docks, expecting a small-time drug deal and instead finding an armed fight between two rival gangs. Next, working off a tip from an informant, Tim spent a full two hours on a rooftop watching Poison Ivy's hideout for activity. It would have been fine if, after Ivy and Harley Quinn finally stumbled into the room, he had caught them drawing up blueprints or bragging about their plans, but no. The women were clearly in a mood more amorous than anything else, rendering the entire stake-out pointless.

When he had seen enough to know they weren't planning on criminal activity that night, it was nearly 4:30. He wasn't expecting any more trouble that night as he swung back to the manor, legs stiff from the extended crouch on the freezing rooftop. Of course, he just _had_ to stumble upon a group of thugs who had the brilliant idea to bring a bunch of knives into a dominance fight. After disarming the men and knocking out the two main instigators, Tim tiredly made his way back home.

Upon arriving at the cave, it took all of Tim's willpower to not just pull off his uniform and collapse right there on the cold cement floor. He dragged himself to the shower room and threw his clothes into a heap on the floor before clambering into one of the stalls. The water was warm as it poured out of the faucet, meaning the others had already showered and were probably already tucked into bed upstairs. Tim sighed gratefully as the shower heated up and allowed the steamy water to melt away the dirt, sweat, and stress from his body. He rolled his neck and let the spray pound directly into his face for a moment before redirecting the pulsing water to his chest.

He thought back to his patrol that night. Upon review, there was a good use of space when he propelled himself off a wall to kick two gangsters in the face. His attempt to knock out a particularly large assailant with an elbow to the solar plexus was badly planned and much too close. In the later fight, he had managed to collect 7 knives in 190 seconds. That was acceptable, he supposed, but not good enough if the pressure was really on. And then there was Quinn, and the way her toes had curled when Ivy had parted her soft blonde curls and plunged her tongue through her--

Tim opened his eyes with a jerk. He hadn't even realized he was doing it, but his hand was gripping his cock. When had he gotten hard? He groaned at the sight of his erection throbbing in his palm, flushed dark from the warmth of the shower and his rapidly escalating desire.

He closed his eyes again and tried to picture something other than supervillain lesbians. Images of his ex-girlfriends and what he guessed they looked like naked flashed through his mind. Then he was laying in a heap with all of them at once, and the orgy kept growing, starting with other girls he'd seen, then classmates, then friends, then colleagues. Ives and Ari and Officer Harper, Bernard with Jason Bard, Zoanne entwined with Steph, and everyone on top of each other at once. Soon the images fuzzed into soft-focused flesh, writhing and licking and thrusting and sucking and twitching and throbbing. With each pump of his cock he imagined his hard member sliding into an inviting mouth or thrusting into a wet, slicked hole. Tim rested his brow and a forearm against the warm tiled wall as he pulled on his cock, as each nudge of the sensitive head had his knees threatening to buckle.

There was a sudden knock.

"Tim, you in there?" Bruce's voice cut through the foggy bathroom much more loudly than it should have.

Tim yelped and his cock jumped in his hand. He couldn't suppress a loud whine when his cock suddenly spilled over, jets of come running over his fist onto the tiled floor.

"I'll, uh, I'll check on you later," Tim heard Bruce mumble, followed by the sound of the bathroom door being slammed shut.

Tim let out a shaky breath and stared down at his sticky fist before the realization of what had just happened hit him. He groaned and banged his forehead onto the wall. He just _had_ to jerk off here, where anyone could walk in on him. He couldn't have waited until he was upstairs in his own room and behind a locked door, or at least kept an ear out for any intruders. What if there was an emergency while he was in the shower? Careless, dangerous, _stupid_.

And _Bruce_. He had to have known what Tim was doing. Why else would he have run away from the room so quickly? Tim found himself hyperventilating, the edges of his vision starting to blur with anxiety. He forced himself to try and employ the calming techniques Batman had taught him. Techniques that Bruce had taught him. Bruce. The man who had just _walked in on him coming into his own hand_. Tim felt his heart speed up again and resisted the urge to drown himself in the inch of water on the floor.

This was so not good.

* * *

Tim spent the next week pinging between gut-wrenching embarrassment over what had happened and frustration over his inability to touch himself without calling up memories of that awkward night. Lying in bed, he'd try to slip his hand under the waistband of his sweats, but then the sound of an abrupt knock on the door would infiltrate his mind. Morning wood became an excuse to bury his face into his pillow rather than his cock into his fist. The awkward erections he'd get in class were suddenly ten times more embarrassing than usual. Just the thought of pulling one of Dick's old girly magazines out from under the bed had his face heating up unbearably. Forget about ever jerking off in the shower again.

All the while he avoided Bruce and the rest of the bats like the plague, returning from his patrols during times he knew no one would be in the cave and taking off for school early in the morning before Bruce was awake. If Alfred noticed that the two were no longer speaking to each other, he kept it to himself.

The inability to get himself off meant he was thinking about sex all the time. He spent at least a third of his day thinking about the state of his cock, and another third hastily adjusting himself. He nearly missed a landing one night because his cock had slid _just_ right in his jockstrap, and by the end of each day the insides of his boxers were a mess, slick and soaked through with precome.

Then something unsettling started happening.

Each time he'd reach for his cock, he'd recall the incident in the showers and be unable-- _unwilling_ \--to get himself off. But then - and he wasn't sure if it was because of something Pavlovian or just another sign that he was more fucked up that he previously thought - he started getting excited from the embarrassment. The butterflies in his stomach, the tingle in his spine: each flutter of nervous energy sent a shiver up his cock.

On top of all the embarrassment and shame about getting hard, here he was getting hard over his embarrassment and shame. He could barely stand it.

He was tired of having to check his crotch for wet spots during school.

He was tired of the dull ache in his balls from not being able to get the release he so needed.

He was tired of the endless cycle of feeling like he was going to faint, then getting hard, then wanting to come, then wanting to die.

And if he couldn't get himself off without wanting to die first, well, that meant that he was going to need someone else to do it for him.

* * *

Tim resisted the urge to tut as he shimmied through the air vent into the empty apartment. He had checked every window and door into the place and found them all alarmed and locked tight, but the owner of this apartment hadn't thought to bolt down the air vent cover. Perhaps the security would have been enough to keep out your run-of-the-mill Gothamite hero, but it was certainly no match for a Teen Wonder.

Tim landed in the carpeted living room with a soft thump. He scanned the darkness for any sign of movement before tiptoeing towards what he supposed was the bedroom door.

He was about to push open the door when he found himself pulled back, _hard_ , against something warm and all too solid. Before he could catch his breath he felt a knife pressed to his neck.

"Bit late for a stroll."

"Jason," Tim replied, trying to keep his voice even despite the fact that all the air in his lungs had just been forcibly expelled. He allowed his shoulders to visibly drop and raised his hands in surrender. Jason didn't budge and pushed the flat of the knife deeper into Tim's neck.

"I could hear you squirreling around in the vents. You want to explain what you're doing here, Pretender?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," Tim breathed, all too conscious of how close the knife was to slicing through his neck.

"Hmmph." Jason lowered the knife and shoved Tim forward. "And after all this time. I just figured you weren't into me like that."

Tim balanced himself and turned around, slowly so as not to end up with a knife thrown into his chest. "Do you greet everyone with a knife to the throat, or is that just special for me?"

Jason growled and relaxed his grip on the knife. "Don't push it. Last time I checked, you're the one who came crawling into my safehouse at fuck-knows-when in the morning."

Tim flushed as he remembered the real reason he was standing in Jason Todd's - _Jason Todd's_ \- living room at 3am on a school night. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just kind of edgy right now."

"Looks like that's not the only thing that's on edge right now." Jason stared pointedly at the straining bulge of Tim's pants. Tim looked down and saw the obscene outline of his erection through the fabric, the traitorous flesh choosing that specific moment to jump in his boxers. Tim resisted the urge to shield his crotch from Jason's view.

"That's," Tim swallowed. "That's kind of why I'm here. I need your help."

"Well. That changes things a bit." Jason set the knife down and moved to stand in front of the younger boy. "Are you sure you want this?" Jason peered into Tim's eyes. "You haven't run into Ivy lately, have you?"

Tim laughed nervously. "No sex pollen here. Just regular old teenager stuff. Good old gonadotropins and testosterone." Because clearly the best way to seduce an older, much cooler boy was to geek out about endocrinology.

Jason rolled his eyes. "And the reason you came to me and not one of your little girlfriends is...?"

Tim's face was on fire. "I--I'm not--there's no--uhm. Do I really have to spell it out?"

Jason kneeled in front of him and began unzipping his jeans. "Nah, I get it. I take it you're here because you're starting to have naughty, big boy thoughts about other boys." Jason grinned up from his place on the floor. "I'm just surprised it took you this long."

Tim bit his lip. "It's not that. I...I can't. Do it. Do _that_. Not anymore."

"You're going to have to speak English if you want my assistance."

"Bruce caught me. Touching myself in the shower. And now I--I can't."

"Honestly, it looks like you're doing a pretty good job from this angle." Jason pulled the jeans down Tim's legs and cupped his straining cock through his boxers.

"I mean, I can't do it to myself anymore."

Jason looked up at him quizzically. "You mean...you mean you can't masturbate anymore?" When Tim didn't respond, Jason started to laugh. "Oh god, Tim. You poor thing."

Tim made a face. "Maybe I should just go."

Jason grinned up at Tim as he squeezed the hard flesh through his boxers. "That's probably not a good idea, not when you're all worked up like this. Now why don't you tell daddy all about your little problem."

"Oh, fuck you," Tim spat, not missing the implication thanks to Jason punctuating the penultimate word with a squeeze, but he ground his hips against the warm palm anyway. Tim groaned as Jason pulled his cock out through the gap in his boxers. The feeling of skin on skin set Tim's nerves on fire.

"You do realize that you made this into a bigger deal than it was by avoiding him, right?" Tim whimpered as Jason rubbed a thumb around his cock head. "He's probably thinking about you and your weird masturbatory habits all the time now."

"N-no," Tim moaned, willing his legs to stay upright as Jason continued to tease the head.

"He probably thought about you tugging on your cock every time he wanted to ask you something this week."

Tim hissed as Jason squeezed his cock from root to tip, forcing a large stream of precome to run out of his twitching hole.

"He probably thinks you're a pervert. I mean, you kind of _are_ a little pervert, aren't you? C'mere." Jason spun Tim around and tugged the sticky boxers down his legs. He placed a firm hand on Tim's back and forced the boy to bend over in front of him and brace his arms on the wall. Jason slid a hand around to Tim's front and continued to tease his cock while nudging his legs apart.

"What were you thinking of when you were touching yourself?" Tim jumped at the sudden sensation of coldness as Jason pressed two slick fingers to his entrance.

"You were thinking of something fucked up, weren't you?"

"I--no," Tim managed to stutter out as Jason circled his finger around Tim's pucker.

"Don't tell me you were thinking of _Bruce_."

"I wasn't, I swear. Oh!"

Jason slid the tip of his slick finger into the tight hole. It was obvious that Tim had never taken anything into himself before.

"Ah, well, doesn't matter. Now Bruce probably thinks you were thinking of him anyway." Jason pulled the finger out and slid it back in again, this time deeper than before. "Does it hurt?" Jason murmured, increasing the speed of his thrusting fist on Tim's cock to distract him from the burn.

"Ah! It--it hurts, a little--but--it feels good."

"Mmm, I bet it does." Jason pushed another finger in to join the first. Tim rocked back against the burn, torn between the hot tingle coursing through his cock and the fire that seemed to trail alongside Jason's fingers.

"How can you ever face him again? I mean, every time you take a shower from now on, he's going to think you're jacking off in there."

" _Jason_ ," Tim whined, sliding his hips back on Jason's unmoving fingers.

Jason laughed. "Someone's got a hungry little hole." He began thrusting the two fingers in and out, slowly at first, and then more rapidly. Tim's toes curled as Jason began hitting that _spot_ inside him that felt so good.

"Mmmm, bet you like the idea of Bruce thinking about you jacking off, don't you, Stalkerboy?"

Tim actually started keening, his hands grabbing onto the wall in vain as Jason began pounding into his hole with renewed vigor. "Bet Bruce is so disgusted whenever he has to take a shower in the locker room, thinking about how much come you've splattered in there over the years."

Tim shook as Jason stroked his cock in time with the rhythmic jabs to his prostate. His cock was leaking a steady stream of precome which covered Jason's fist and dripped onto the floor.

"And think about poor Alfred, having to clean up your mess. Man deserves a raise."

Tim's face grew hotter, if that was even possible. He glanced behind him and saw that at some point Jason had pulled his own cock out. It was bobbing in time with each of Jason's thrusts, neglected as both of Jason's hands were currently occupied with driving Tim to the edge of release, but Tim's eyes were glued to the drop of precome precariously bubbled at its tip.

"J-Jason, please, I'm going to--"

"Look at you, little baby Robin, has to come crawling to someone else to help him out because he's can't even handle his own cock. Pathetic." Jason nipped at the back of Tim's right hip. "You're lucky I like pathetic."

Tim wasn't sure what sent him over the edge - the sharp pain of Jason's teeth, the constant hand working his cock, those two maddening fingers deep inside him, or the idea that Jason _wanted_ him - but in a flash of white hot pleasure he was coming, fast and bright and hard.

* * *

"You okay?" Jason smoothed Tim's sweaty bangs off of the boy's forehead.

"Hmm? I'm fine," Tim murmured sleepily, cuddling deeper into the tangle of sheets.

"I guess this must be a right of passage," Jason mused, tracing the contours of Tim's face with his fingers. "I'm pretty sure Bruce has walked in on every one of his Robins jerking it."

Tim shot up onto his elbows. "What?! There's no way--oh my god--"

"Easy, Tim." Jason gently pushed against Tim's chest until he was forced to lie down again.

"You're not serious, are you? About Bruce."

"Yep. Just ask Dick sometime about the flushed sock incident."

"Oh _god_." Tim buried his face into his hands.

"Hey." Jason pulled Tim's hands away from his face and smoothed a thumb over his jaw. "That was supposed to make you feel better, not worse. Besides, don't tell me you never listened in on the Bat getting his rocks off?"

"Eww, no, what the fuck, Jason."

Jason laughed. "Man, I can't tell you how scarred I was the first time I heard him crying ' _Selina! Selina!_ ' in the bathroom."

"Oh. My. _God_. That did _not_ happen. Oh my god."

"For a place that big, you'd be surprised at how bad the sound insulation was."

Tim couldn't help but smile as Jason snickered over the memory and traced circles onto his skin. All things considered, there were worse things than being warmed and cheered up by a man who knew your mistakes and cared for you anyway. Perhaps his life wasn't such a mess, after all.


End file.
